


A King's Needs

by SPowell



Category: Merlin (TV)
Genre: Arthur!bottom, Canon, M/M, One Shot, PWP, Rimming, withheld ejaculation
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-09-04
Updated: 2013-09-04
Packaged: 2017-12-25 15:56:02
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,952
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/954991
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SPowell/pseuds/SPowell
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Sometimes a king would like to let go of the reins.</p><p> </p><p>Disclaimer: The characters within do not belong to me; the belong to BBC, Shine, and legend.</p>
            </blockquote>





	A King's Needs

**Author's Note:**

> A pwp written for a kmm prompt where "Arthur likes to bottom."

“Arthur, what is it?” Merlin asks. His king has returned to his bedchambers looking so unhappy, Merlin automatically slips, not addressing Arthur by his proper title.  
  
“Just go away, Merlin, I’m fine,” Arthur replies in an edgy tone of voice, but the way he’s sagged in his chair with his regal shoulders slumped and his lips turned downward, concerns Merlin.  
  
Merlin goes to stand directly in Arthur’s line of vision.

“Look, I may be your servant, but I’m also your friend—probably the only one you’ve got. You know I never tell your secrets.” He kneels in front of Arthur’s chair, tilting his head to get the king to look at him. “I know you went to the, er, house of ill-repute with your knights tonight.”  
  
Arthur glances up from his lap. “It’s a whore house, Merlin. Call it what it is. And yes, I did. What of it? I’m a man…I have needs.”  
  
“I realize that, but you don’t look like someone whose  _needs_  have been met. Am I wrong?”  
  
Arthur looks away. “Go to bed, Merlin. That’s an order.”  
  
“Not until you tell me what’s wrong with you.” Merlin stubbornly crosses his arms over his chest.  
  
Suddenly enraged, Arthur starts forward, and Merlin flinches, but Arthur stills the upward motion of his hand, letting his arm drop with a sigh. “I can’t even get any satisfaction out of hitting you, Merlin. It’d be like smacking a kitten.”  
  
Merlin grins. “Going to tell me, then?”  
  
Arthur sighs before giving his manservant a sharp look. “This can go no farther than this room, and after I tell you, you’re just going to have to be content with that. It’s not like you can do anything about it.”  
  
“Let me be the judge of that,” Merlin says cheekily, leaning forward in his eagerness to hear what has his king so unhappy so he can try to fix it.  
  
Arthur clenches his teeth. “Fine.” He looks away—pinning his gaze to the far wall. “I was unable to…fulfill my needs tonight, as you rightly gathered. They just didn’t have what I needed there.”  
  
Merlin knows Arthur assumes Merlin’s a bit dim on most subjects, including sex, but the truth is he’s been around enough rough areas to know quite a lot. “Is it that you prefer boys?” he asks forthrightly, and Arthur jerks his head back to stare.  
  
“Merlin!” he splutters, outraged and blushing a little.  
  
“Well, is it? Because I’ve heard they have a few boys there you could have asked for. Or, you know, gotten Leon to ask for you.” Merlin bites his lip.  
  
Arthur huffs air out between his lips. “No, a boy is not going to be able to give me what I need.” He looks down, fiddling with the ring on his index finger. The next words come so quietly, Merlin barely catches them. “What I need is a man.”

“I don’t understand,” Merlin finally says after the silence draws out so long he wonders if Arthur will ever say anything else.  
  
“I don’t expect you to, Merlin, because you probably love to go and bed sweet little maidens in the village, along with the occasional chicken.”  
  
Merlin makes a face. “Sire, a piglet maybe, but never a chicken!”  
  
This has the effect Merlin hoped for: Arthur laughs. “Gods, Merlin, you’re such an idiot,” Arthur chides almost fondly. He lifts up a leg for Merlin to pull off his boot. As Merlin goes about undressing him, Arthur tries to explain, although it’s more than obvious that he’s uncomfortable with the topic.  
  
“I’m the king. Things are expected of me. I am to always be in control, for one. I dominate and give the orders. I say what happens when. When I bed a woman, she expects me to be this way.” Arthur glances at Merlin. “And the same goes for boys. Any boy I would take to bed would expect me to be in control. To fuck them.” He clears his throat, staring broodingly as Merlin leads him to his bath.  
  
“And you don’t want to do that? Be in control of them?” Merlin asks after Arthur is settled in the water.  
  
Arthur leans his head back against the side of the wooden tub, closing his eyes. He looks weary and …sad. “Sometimes, Merlin…sometimes I long for a bed partner to be in control of me. I want to be…” he stops, and Merlin sees that Arthur cannot continue.  
  
“Taken?” Merlin ventures for him.  
  
“Gods, yes,” Arthur breathes, and Merlin finds himself hardening in his breeches.  
  
“I’m sure you can ask one of your knights…” Merlin suggests, mouth dry.  
  
“No,” Arthur replies emphatically, head snapping up and blue eyes staring at Merlin fiercely. “I can’t. Those men are my knights and trained to obey me. I can’t have them in a position of dominance. I would never be able to look them in the face again.” He takes a deep breath and says softly. “I can’t have them doing what I want to be done.”  
  
“Okay, then.” Merlin bites his lip, considering. It only takes him seconds to decide.  
  
He begins undressing.  
  
“What are you doing?” Arthur asks, sitting up, water dripping off his shoulders.  
  
Merlin climbs into the tub and takes a seat opposite his king, beginning to wash. He throws Arthur a rag and another of the bars of soap. “Get going—we have things to do.”  
  
“Merlin!” Arthur objects, brows lowered. “You can’t—we can’t---I don’t expect you to…”  
  
Merlin stops washing and gives Arthur a level look. “You just told me you have a need. I’m the only one you can trust with this. I live to serve you, Arthur, and what’s more—I want to do this.”  
  
Their eyes engage, and Arthur stills.   
  
After a moment, Arthur gives a curt nod and begins to wash.

When Arthur’s skin is clean and has a rosy glow, Merlin comes forward through the bath water and gently washes Arthur’s blond hair. He’s always secretly loved it—the way it shines and how silky it feels between Merlin’s fingers. Arthur would never admit it, but Merlin can tell he loves this part of the daily bath ritual. Of course, Merlin is not usually in the tub with Arthur, but if the furtive looks are any indication, Arthur is enjoying that, too. Merlin takes special pains to massage Arthur’s scalp, getting him nice and relaxed.  
  
More than anything, Merlin wants to please his king. And the fact that pleasing him involves pleasing himself is just butter on the bread, as far as Merlin’s concerned. He’s spent many, many days dressing and undressing Arthur, watching that pert, cheeky arse swing this way and that. Never had Merlin thought he’d really have a chance at it. Sure, he’s been pretty certain that Arthur wouldn’t be opposed to taking a romp with a stable boy, or perhaps even Merlin. He’s flirted a bit with his manservant now and again, particularly after drinking a lot of wine. But Merlin never considered that Arthur would ever let him fuck him. Because…well, Arthur’s the  _king_! And Merlin now knows that in there lies the rub; Arthur desires to submit, and being the king simply won’t allow that.  
  
Lucky for Arthur he has a devoted servant with a large cock and a healthy lust for him, then, Merlin muses.  
  
He smiles to himself, rinsing Arthur’s hair and nudging him to get out of the tub.  
  
Having dried Arthur well with warmed towels, Merlin leans close and breathes into Arthur’s ear. “I’m your servant, forever and always. You trust me, don’t you?”  
  
Arthur shivers and nods. He’s being uncharacteristically quiet, but Merlin thinks that’s for the best. The last thing he needs is intimidation from his king while trying to dominate him.  
  
“Good.” Merlin leads Arthur over to the rug made of sheep's wool and tells him to lie down. He stokes the fire until it’s burning merrily in the grate before turning to look. The sight of Arthur, naked and beautiful, lying on the white rug is enough to bring Merlin to a full erection. Arthur’s eyes widen, watching.  
  
“Gods, Merlin!” Arthur blinks.  
  
“I’m more than equipped to please you, Sire,” Merlin grins.  
  
Arthur swallows hard. Merlin isn’t sure just exactly all that Arthur wants, but he figures Arthur will simply refuse if Merlin oversteps. It’s his guess that Arthur would just like to let go for once and be told what to do, and looking at Arthur’s Adam’s apple bobbing is giving Merlin ideas.  
  
“Come here,” Merlin demands, and Arthur’s eyes flicker up to meet his. Merlin points to the floor in front of him. “Kneel here. Sire.” He adds the title to appease Arthur, who still appears a little disgruntled at taking orders from his manservant, no matter how well-hung. Grudgingly, he knee-walks over to Merlin, his rosy mouth just inches from Merlin’s aching cock.  
  
“Taste it,” Merlin says gruffly, a little surprised at himself for rising to the occasion like he is.  
  
Arthur hesitates only a second before opening his mouth (Merlin doesn’t realize that he’s opening his own mouth at the same time, eyes riveted) and allowing Merlin to slip his cock inside.  
  
Merlin lets out a moan at the hot, wet heat surrounding him and grasps Arthur by the hair. Arthur seems to come alive then, clutching Merlin’s thighs and sucking on him appreciatively.  
  
“Take it all the way in,” Merlin tells him, and Arthur opens his mouth wider so that Merlin can push farther inside until his cock head bumps the back of Arthur’s throat and Arthur gags, tears springing to his eyes.  
  
“That’s right, gag on it,” Merlin tells him, moving his hips so that he’s fucking Arthur’s mouth. He’s so turned on having his king on his knees for him, taking Merlin’s cock in that pretty mouth…  
  
Merlin has to pull out before he prematurely spills his seed. He looks down at Arthur’s wrecked face, mouth dripping with spit and blond hair all disheveled from Merlin’s fingers. “Lie down on your stomach, Arthur,” he demands hoarsely. Arthur immediately does so. Merlin slaps Arthur’s arse, hard. Merlin doesn’t expect a flinch or even a sound out of a hardened warrior like Arthur, but he  _really_  doesn’t expect the moan that the slap elicits.   
  
Merlin decides he must be doing this right.  
  
“Up in the air,” he instructs, and Arthur gets to his knees, face on the floor. Merlin kneels behind him, just staring at Arthur’s lovely buttocks. He reaches out and runs all ten fingers down the plump, white cheeks before putting a hand on Arthur’ curved back and soothing him. With his other hand, Merlin nudges Arthur’s knees farther apart. “Lovely,” Merlin sighs. “You have such a lovely hole, Sire. It’s just begging me to fill it up.”  
  
Arthur shivers, and Merlin leans in, releasing a line of spittle from his mouth to drip down Arthur’s crack. Arthur lets out a little noise and actually wiggles his rump. Merlin has to clamp his hand on his cock to stop it from pulsing at the sound and sight. Merlin blows softly on Arthur’s wet hole, and Arthur lets out a moan so loud Merlin releases a bit of magic to soundproof the walls. When he sees Arthur biting his fist in an attempt to remain quiet, Merlin tells him that the guards have gone to eat and not to worry about making noise. “You can yell all you want. I want you to yell.”  
  
With a finger, Merlin touches the quivering, pink pucker of skin, reveling in his king’s responding gasp of pleasure. Merlin licks his finger and then touches it again, slipping just past the muscle, watching Arthur breathe heavily in response. Merlin spits some more, pushing the saliva inside Arthur, taking his finger deeper and deeper.  
  
Tristan, one of the squires, once told Merlin that there’s a place inside a man’s anus—a little nub of a muscle—that when rubbed, feels magnificent. Merlin seeks that nub now, and when he finds it with the pad of his finger, Arthur almost comes off the floor. His body quivers, and he moans Merlin’s name. Merlin takes his finger out and leans in, flicking his tongue over Arthur’s arse hole. He’s never done this before to anyone, and he finds he loves the taste of Arthur’s hole, along with the feel of the wrinkled skin against his tongue. Arthur’s breath hitches in his throat, and he whimpers. Merlin loses his control, then, licking and biting at Arthur’s anus like it’s food after a long fast. Arthur trembles, pushing his buttocks back into Merlin’s face for more. Merlin points his tongue, thrusting it inside Arthur, and the room rings with Arthur’s cries of pleasure as he fucks back onto it.  
  
“Oh, gods…Merlin! With all that is holy, please…” Arthur keeps rocking back, spearing himself on Merlin’s tongue.  
  
Inflamed and breathing hard, Merlin leans back, looking around the room for something he can use to slick Arthur up. He spots a bottle of oil used for shining Arthur’s dress boots, and Merlin scrambles up to get it, splashing the slippery liquid with hands shaky with lust. He returns to Arthur’s waiting arse, inserting a slick finger and feeling for the nub again, delighted when Arthur responds with another moan and pushes his arse back at Merlin for more. Merlin can see Arthur’s heavy sac swinging between his knees, long, regal cock hard and dripping. Merlin keeps massaging him, another idea forming in his head.  
  
That same squire had told Merlin that there’s a way to hold off a man’s seed. Merlin takes off his neckerchief and rolls it into a long rope. Then he instructs Arthur to lift up a moment while he deftly ties up his cock and balls, pulling as tightly as possible without hurting Arthur.  
  
“Ahh! Merlin!” Arthur barks gruffly, “what are you doing?”  
  
“You’ll see,” Merlin says, giving Arthur’s arse another hard slap and ordering him to get back down. Arthur obliges, and Merlin again rubs at the pucker before sliding a finger in. When he finds the nub this time, and Arthur begins wiggling and writhing, Merlin doesn’t let up. He keeps rubbing and rubbing and rubbing until Arthur is almost sobbing with need. 

“Don’t touch yourself,” Merlin orders as Arthur’s hand snakes downward. Amazingly, Arthur's hand stops, and Merlin thinks he could get used to this.

Arthur begins to shudder, crying out his pleasure until his voice is hoarse.  
  
“Gods, I can’t release!” Arthur moans pitifully. “Merlin, please!”  
  
“Please, what, Sire?” Merlin asks, taking his own aching cock in hand and pinching the base.  
  
“Please…please…”  
  
“What do you want me to do, Arthur? Fuck you? If you do, then you have to say it. Beg me, in fact.”  
  
“Merlin!” Arthur yells, face crimson as he looks over his shoulder, but Merlin just rubs harder at the little nub. Arthur cries out again, squeezing his eyes shut.  
  
“Okay, okay, please, Merlin, please, please, please…fuck me!” Arthur begs.  
  
“Oh, I’m afraid that’s not good enough,” Merlin tells him. “You’ve got to say how. How do you want me to fuck you, Arthur?”  
  
“With your cock, you idiot!” Arthur shouts.  
  
Merlin remains silent, rubbing, rubbing, rubbing in little swirls against the nub.  
  
“Hard and long, Merlin! Fuck me hard and long until I can’t remember my own name anymore, you incompetent...!” Arthur’s words end brokenly, and Merlin withdraws his finger. He scoots closer to Arthur, raising one leg so he’s balanced on his left knee and right foot.  
  
“I'll ignore that last bit, Sire, since you're obviously under some stress. And I'll give you what you asked for...” He plunges into the tight cavern, and Arthur yells, hands clutching the rug. When Merlin’s balls slap Arthur’s behind, he leans down and presses a kiss to the middle of Arthur’s spine. “Ready?”  
  
“Just fuck me,” Arthur rasps, and Merlin does. He pulls back and slams in, over and over, pushing Arthur inches forward each time. Arthur gets up on his hands, moving his knees for better purchase, and moans as Merlin takes him in a frenzy of lunges.  
  
“Ooohhh...Sire, your arse is so hot…so tight. It feels...it feels  _heavenly_ squeezing my cock!” Merlin groans, fucking Arthur faster and harder. He fucks him so hard, Arthur’s knees come up off the rug with each thrust. Merlin grasps Arthur’s hips, fingers digging in.

“I’ve got a king on my cock,” he announces proudly, and Arthur groans.  
  
“I-it feels so good,” Arthur breathes between moans. “So full. You’re fucking huge, Merlin!”  
  
Merlin answers by swerving his hips, and Arthur cries out, shuddering and pushing back to get Merlin in deeper.  
  
“Merlin let me come…get this thing off, please…” Arthur finally whines. Merlin slams into him several more times before leaning down and releasing the slip knot on his neckerchief. Arthur yells, bucking wildly as he spurts all over the rug, arse muscles tightening around Merlin until Merlin’s cock explodes inside Arthur. They both fall forward, exhausted. Merlin withdraws from Arthur, falling to the side. He reaches over and puts his fingers in the cum dribbling steadily from Arthur’s spasming hole, rubbing it around and down over Arthur’s soft perineum, bringing another small trickle of seed from Arthur’s spent cock. 

  
Merlin kisses Arthur’s shoulder.  
  
“You did wonderfully, Sire. It takes a strong man to submit,” Merlin says quietly.  
  
Arthur turns his head to look at him, cheek pressed against the rug. “Shut up, Merlin,” he says, but there’s no heat in the words and his blue eyes crinkle at the sides.  
  
“Yes, m’lord,” Merlin smiles and stretches out beside his king.

**Author's Note:**

> I know it's difficult sometimes to leave comments on something so porny, but I'd love to hear it if you thought they sounded in character. I don't write canon much. Thanks. <3


End file.
